Heart of the Witch by Alicia Dean Read Free Book Online Page B

killer dropped it? Had the woman? Neither? Did it belong to one of the many people who had wandered through here over time? How had the CSI boys missed it? Maybe he was just in the right spot at the right time. Dumb, blind luck. If, that is, it wound up meaning anything.
    He peered closely at the writing. Neoral was printed in red letters, and underneath, 100 mg . Nick slipped it into a baggie he'd brought with him, and placed that in his pocket along with the bottle. Couldn't hurt to check it out.
    As he was about to leave, he heard a car pull up, followed by doors slamming. Shit. Whoever it was, he didn't want them to find him here. But it was too late—he could hear footsteps on the porch. He pulled his Beretta from its holster.
    The door opened, and two men walked in. The first was Detective Carlos Mungia. The second was his partner, Scott Harris.
    It had been almost five years, but Harris hadn't changed much. He was stocky, with narrow shoulders that didn't fit his physique. His hair had thinned, and he'd tried that goofy-ass comb-over thing. Craggy scars marked his face and his nose had a hump where it had been broken. By Nick.
    Nick put his gun away and faced the two men.
    Harris's eyes rounded, glittered with hatred. "Lassiter," he snarled. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
    Nick didn't speak. He looked at Carlos, who gave no hint of hostility, just exuded an air of annoyance. As if Nick had just made his life a bit more problematic.
    Nick headed to the door, cutting a wide swath around Harris. It wasn't wide enough. The cop's arm shot out and gripped his sleeve. "I asked you a question, fucker."
    Nick reached out instinctively and grabbed Harris's wrist. A quick twist backward and the detective released his hold, yelping like an injured animal. "Keep your hands off me," Nick growled. His voice was low, but the danger was audible.
    "Got any DUIs lately?" Harris glowered as he rubbed his wrist.
    "Beat up any little girls lately?" Nick returned.
    Detective Harris raised his fists, his pain forgotten as he lunged forward. Mungia grabbed him before he got to Nick and pulled him back. "Knock it off, Harris," he snapped. "Just let the guy leave."
    Harris shook off his partner's hand, but he didn't make any more moves toward Nick. "Hell, he's probably drunk right now. I oughta haul his sorry ass in. Hear that, Lassiter? I oughta haul your ass in."
    "Yeah, maybe you should. You wouldn't want to waste your efforts actually doing your job . You know, finding the maniac who's been chopping up women."
    "Fuck you," Harris snarled. He lunged toward Nick once again, and this time Mungia was too slow. Nick sidestepped, not wanting to be arrested for assault, and Harris stumbled. The cop crashed right into the cabin door as it opened.
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Chapter Ten

     
    The detective's head cracked loudly on the wood, and he rose up like an enraged tiger. Before Harris could act on his rage, however, a newcomer stepped inside. He was an older man, probably in his early sixties. He wore a sheriffs uniform.
    "What the heck's goin' on?" The man's gaze swept from Carlos Mungia to Nick and back to the panting Detective Harris, who glared and rubbed his hand across his forehead.
    "Homicide, OCPD," Mungia told him, flashing his badge. "We're working the Tin Man case."
    "All three of ya?" the sheriff asked.
    "No," Harris spat, pointing a finger at Nick. "He's not. He's trespassing."
    Nick stuck out a hand. "Nick Lassiter. I'm a private investigator. Just up here taking a look around."
    "Sheriff John Whitehall." The sheriff shook Nick's hand as he introduced himself. His eyes narrowed. "Lassiter? From the city?"
    Nick nodded.
    "You the fella I read about in the paper a few years back? The one that risked his ass to save that junkie?"
    A drug-crazed man had been holding his wife and child hostage. Nick was there with the hostage negotiators. They'd convinced the suspect to release his family, but he wouldn't come out. He said he was going to blow himself